


He Just Wants To Tango

by mhs0501



Series: Hansoff Saga [6]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Frozen (2013) Fusion, Anxiety, Apologies, Awkwardness, Ballroom Dancing, Based off Pinterest Post, Blood and Injury, Broken nose, Dancing, Fluff, Hans Being Less of an Asshole, Hans Has Fire Powers, Hans teaching him, Injury, Kristoff learning how to dance, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Minor Injuries, Minor Swearing, Relationship(s), Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kristoff never really knew how to dance. But for their engagement ball, he asks Hans to teach him how. Of course, the prince never anticipated the Tango being the worst of their problems. </p><p>Based off a Pinterest Post that just deserved a fanfiction, and title is based off of Swingerhead Song 'He Just Wants to Cha-Cha'</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Just Wants To Tango

The words were hard to swallow, they had been indeed. Kristoff could still see the light imperfections of his best friends wooden bedroom door, the sight familiar and oh-so depressing at one time. It hardly was, anymore though. He’d opened that door as many times now as he’d been stuck sitting beside it or on it, asking Hans to come out and play with him like only a friend could. His knuckles had brushed against the door as he bit back his embarrassment, the response to enter swift as it had been. Hans was sitting on his bed, a book in his hands as he sprawled out on the king-sized bed that both of them normally occupied as fiances. The worn leather cover was blank and burgundy, the once cleanly-cut lines of parchment worn and folded haphazardly with age and use.

 

“Why did you knock?” Hans shut the book. “Feeling nostalgic?”

 

“Hardly.” Kristoff mumbled, his gaze falling to the carpeted floor.

 

The prince sighed and swung his legs over the bed before walking over to the blonde ice cutter. The look on his face as knowing, and the copper brown of his eyes was glimmering distantly like a dying fire. “Alright. What’s wrong?”

 

He gulped silently, not willing to voice his intentions. He’d been through this with his mirror and frozen lakes more times than he could count. His reflection mimicked the words he refused to acknowledge, conflicted, annoyed. But all the times he’d practiced it were nothing compared to the real thing, even if it was Hans.

 

“Look,” He began. “Our engagement ball is coming up, and as far as I know, there’s usually dancing.”

 

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh…”

 

“And I’ve been nervous about it for weeks. The dancing, I mean.”

 

And that was only part of it. Because despite being in the atmosphere of the palace for nearly a year, there was still that feeling of disconnection that came from anything high-collared and fancy that Kristoff honestly would’ve felt more than comfortable blowing off in favor of a night under the stars. But it wasn’t just some ball Hans had orchestrated, this time. It was their engagement ball, and that was something he was both dreading and relishing. It was a blessing and a curse, but then again, so was their engagement to begin with.

 

Upon the announcement of an engagement, Thomas was less than thrilled. There were of course hurdles to be faced with their newfound life together, but the reaction his brother had given him nearly made them both run from the study, tails between their legs. After cooling down for a period of half an hour, Thomas finally called Hans back into the study and sat him down in one of the chairs like he was nothing more than the obstinate child needing repremandment. It was a long discussion that was more heated than the sparkling obsidian that slowly began to climb the rooms walls like a poisonous ivy. The arguments were well documented by Kristoff, who could hear every single word through the door as he was sure the rest of the palace staff could based off the volume the two royals were going at.

 

“Hans, you don’t get it, do you? You’re the last heir to this kingdom should something happen to me, and unless one of you is god forbid open to surrogacy-”

 

“Really, Thomas? You’re biggest concern right now is something miles down the road?”

 

“You do _not_ get to interrupt me, Hans! As king it is my duty that we, as princes, do what is right for the country. It’s not my brunt to bear alone, it’s _ours ._ ”

 

“This coming from the king that willingly approved of my being locked away in my room! You’ve never let me handle responsibility unless it’s to drive some dignitary away with my powers!”

 

“You’ve never cared enough to sit through a single meeting unless you saw a certain blonde sitting next to you and taking glances at each others cocks!”

 

Silence passed for a moment as a bright flash shadowed along the crack of the door. The iceman had waited with baited breath wondering for a moment if Hans had somehow incinerated his brother. It certainly would’ve made sense, given the strength of that accusation that the iceman knew had had some truth to it, if any. But after a moment, Hans retaliated.

 

“That’s just it, though.” He answered. “I’ve never had anyone to even attempt that with, and you know it. Kristoff is the only person in my life that understands me. We’ve been through hell and back and every time we get separated we always end up back together. Isn’t that what love is supposed to be?”

 

The king sighed, obviously contemplating his brothers words. “Hans, despite what I’ve said about your relationship, I want you to understand what this has been like for me. As king, everyone expects me to settle down soon enough with someone eligible. I don’t know if I’ll ever have anything like what you have with Kristoff, but frankly, my love life doesn’t matter as someone of royal blood. Yours most certainly doesn’t in the councils eyes, and I’ve been through everything to keep them compliant with you and Kristoff. I’ve stood as a barrier between you and everyone for the longest time because I have to struggle between my kingdom, and my own personal ambitions. I want you to be happy, of course. But I’m also under pressure to continue the line by any possible means.

 

What you have with Kristoff is something I’ll never have for myself. I’ve always known it and have learned to respect it. But marrying for love in our line always has its consequences; its rules. I could pacify you marrying a woman of low status easily enough with the council. But a man? That’s another matter entirely. There’s traditions, the church, the council, the people, the foreign ramifications. All of this you don’t seem to grasp even though you’ve grown into a fine prince. Life isn’t as privileged as we’d like it to be.”

 

The prince was silent for a moment, but finally spoke. “If you got one surefire chance to go with anybody in the world, would you let them get away, kingdom be damned?”

 

The iceman could see the kings frown. “I would go for them like no tomorrow.”

 

The creaking of the chair suggested Hans had stood up. “Then let me face this with Kristoff. Whatever hurdles there are to us being together; like this, we promised we’d handle it. I ran away to be myself, to let it all go. I would never have begun anything with Kristoff if I hadn’t given up reserves about caring what other people think. That’s been my entire life, Thomas. Can’t you see that?”

 

Another sigh came from the king. “I can see it just fine. I know what you’ve had to go through. I know you don’t care what other people think about you. But I can’t defend you anymore if you really decide to go through with this. I won’t have any choice.”

 

Kristoff held his breath as Hans nodded. “I understand. And I’m ready. I will face everyone myself if I have to.”

 

 _No Hans,_ The blonde reminded himself. _You won’t. You don’t have to._

 

“You’re certain,” Thomas began. “because if you are, the wedding is on.” The iceman wasn’t at all surprised when Hans had nodded. He just knew he would. In the back on his mind he told himself it was only the beginning, but at the moment he didn’t really care. Of course, they would have hell facing the council about this, but he knew Hans wouldn’t let them leave until he got what he wanted, and the same could be said for the council of small minded idiots.

 

It was a few days until that meeting was scheduled to go on, but for intents of purposes, they both secretly knew they would beat the council easily. At least, that’s what they wanted to keep telling themselves. But since then, Kristoff’s mind had been occupied with only one thing: the pressure to impress, or at least not look like a complete fool in front of not only dignitaries, but the remainder of his soon to be ten brother in laws. They showed up for the occasional family gathering but for the most part, Kristoff remained a fair bit of a mystery to them as he always excused himself early on as he preferred to not be social. He never was one for parties, and if he was he always remained on the sidelines while Hans went around entertaining everyone. Almost every party ended on a wonderful note for the both of them, and if he was honest with himself, Kristoff didn’t feel guilty for staying on the dais or wandering around the buffet tables. Just so long as he was announced, he wouldn’t have any obligations unless some duke or princess came up to talk to him and he indulged in their wishes until the king would come to his rescue and wished to discuss trade agreements or something of the sort. But like he’d said before, it was obvious his usual pattern of staying out of the chaos of the dance floor wasn’t going to pass this time, and the last thing he wanted was to make a complete fool of himself in front of everyone. After all, marrying into royalty left high standards.

 

“So,” Hans began. “You need me to help you dance?” The ice cutter nodded.

 

“We all know it isn’t my strong spot.” He replied with no remorse.

 

“Well until you moved here, bathing wasn’t either.” Hans rolled his eyes. “But if I can teach you how to wash yourself, I can teach you how to dance.”

 

The blonde sighed. “You didn’t teach me how to _bathe_ , Hans. I just got good at it.”

 

The prince grinned. “Exactly my point. Now come on.” He began to walk out of his room. “If we’re going to dance, we may as well do it properly.”

 

Ten minutes later, the salty tang of the sea air was greeting them in the massive ballroom of the Southern Isles Palace. The tall doors that led out to the many soapstone balconies were held open and the curtains were drawn, warm light of day cascading in through every door and window. It was as open and light as it could be, and exactly how it would be for the coming ball. Hans positioned himself in the very center of the room, his coal black boots tapping lightly as he watched Kristoff come out of one of the doors, looking around at the familiar room and then to his prince. Confusion was there, but it quickly melted away as the ice cutter did a turn around to get an idea of the rooms size, and a low whistle echoed from his lips.

 

“It’s been awhile, huh?” Hans asked with a bit of a smile.

 

In his mind he could still see the distant glimpses of party-goers streaming around, dancing rural dances. He could still hear the jubilant music of the little orchestra. He could still smell the faint scent of soap and chocolate, and taste the buzz of the champagne. The raised dais with the two thrones sat empty, and heir of power still surrounding it as though Erik and Katharine were still there, judging him and warning him to keep himself out of trouble. Of course, the wall of spiky glass had long ago been removed, but Hans always found himself stepping around the area it had been anyhow, the faint burns marks still barely visible on the pale light parquet.

 

“It really hasn’t.” Kristoff remarked. “but I guess I can see what you mean.” His eyes trailed to the telltale burn mark on the floor, only a foot or so from where he was. Hans obviously wasn’t interested in dwelling on past mistakes, and the ice cutter nodded before strolling up to him, ready to begin the lesson. Hans, for a moment, didn’t do anything, and he raised his eyebrows twice as if the indicate that Kristoff should’ve been doing something. Anything.

 

But they both just stood there stupidly until Hans groaned and shook his head.

 

“Maybe I’m not getting the atmosphere right.” He sighed and raised his hand as a fiery orange glow erupted from their shoes, climbing up their outfits at a remarkable speed until they were both in a form of evening wear. With this, however, came nothing but a confused Kristoff.

 

“You’re supposed to bow.” Hans reminded him as he buried his face in his right hand. Through his fingers he could see the blonde was complying. “Good.” He nodded. “Now, grab my right hand, and put the left one around my waist.”

 

“What dance is this, anyway?” Kristoff’s hand squeezed his waist.

 

“It’s a waltz, one of the simplest dances you’ve probably seen and heard of. This is going to be easy.” Hans said so more for himself than Kristoff, but he figured his ice cutter could at least learn the basics. Kristoff was smart.

 

“Alright. Now take one step forward with your right-” His bit hard into his tongue as the clumsy man stepped onto the toe with the heel of his boot. “Not yet!” He snapped as he began to laugh despite the pain of having his toes all but broken.

 

“Sorry.” Kristoff replied sheepishly. “Like I said, not my strong suit.”

 

“I can tell.” He practically hissed before taking a deep breath, and pain subsiding for a moment.

 

“Watch my feet.” The prince continued after a moment, and Kristoff looked as he repeated the motion, Hans’ foot moving back as far as his foot went forward. “There you go! You’re getting it.” He chided.

 

“So is this it?” Kristoff asked as the prince took a step to the side and they repeated their steps in the new position on the lightwood parquet.

 

“No,” Hans admitted. “We’ve still got sixteen something more steps to do.” This was going to be a long lesson.

 

And so the hours progressed, Kristoff slowly became more adept with his two left feet, Hans biting back the inevitable pain and frustration that comes with instruction. He was no dance teacher, but it was obvious that they were in fact, getting somewhere. It was already an improvement and despite the many times they had tripped over each others feet and fell to the hard reality of the parquet floor, Hans managed to keep himself optimistic throughout the Waltz, the Minuet, and the Polonaise. It was at the Tango, however, that made Hans quit.

 

“Alright, Kristoff. We’ve been through nearly every dance I know. We’re down to one final one that I think you might be ready for.” Hans let go of his partners hands are a final shift in direction of the Viennese Waltz.

 

Kristoff puffed a sigh. “Lay it on me.”

 

“It’s called the Tango. It’s a dance from Spain; I think. It’s kind of complicated, but do you want to try it?”

 

“Why not?” He shrugged, still a little tired.

 

“Okay.” Hans breathed taking a step forward as he imagined the 2 by 4 beat rhythm in his head. He held the ice cutter close, their toes practically touching as he began to take the first wide step back, Kristoff following his lead. Together the two suited up men danced the elaborate twirls and steps that was the escalated and sought after dance. Romantic as it was, Hans couldn’t help but know that they wouldn’t be performing this at the ball. It was flashy, arrogant, too articulate for even him to pull off. And yet the lessons a Spanish princess had given him a while back remained fresh in his mind as he counted every step he and his partner took across the polish wood floor. They were doing the tango, and it was a motion as fluid as the finest dancer.

 

“Alright,” Hans breathed. “Now comes the hard part, okay?”

 

“What is it?” The blonde raised an eyebrow.

 

“Just trust me on this and let me handle it.” Hans reassured him as he prepared to take the dip. His back leg halted and slid backwards to right his balance. His fingers gripped Kristoff’s shoulder as hard as he could, the bulky man much heavier than he’d expected.

 

“Lean,” Hans eased as the ice cutter followed, trying hard to trust that Hans wouldn’t drop him flat on his back. His own hand squeezed Hans’ warm one as he he closed his eyes and breathed, the nerves on his back tingling with the sensation of tipping backwards. Hans’ hand kept him steady as his legs relaxed a bit, bending in the right places to keep them from falling down on top of eachother.

 

“We did it.” Hans remarked as a bit of joy entered his voice before releasing in a full fledged laugh. “We did it!” He repeated as his hands shook. But Kristoff didn’t exactly know what he was to do next, and without his fiance giving him any sort of instructions for how to get out of the dip, he threw his head back up.

 

“I can’t believe we-” His fiance was cut off by a loud crunch echoed as the room suddenly grew hotter than a furnace and Kristoff held his hands recoiling, leaving him to slam into the ground. He struggled to breath for the moment, the force knocking the wind from his chest. He looked up at Hans who had both hands clapped to his face, blood dribbling in healthy streams down his chin and collecting on the once immaculate hardwood floor. The ice cutter propped himself up at Hans unleashed some of the worst cursing he’d ever heard in his life, his eyes squeezed shut as he tore his blood soaked hands from his face. His button nose was bent out of shape ever so slightly, and his eyes glowed with a burning hatred as Kristoff managed to get to one knee as he let out the obvious.

 

“I broke your nose!?” He the tiniest bit of dry laughter entered his tone as Hans glared at him.

 

“Yeh.” Hans nodded at bit as he materialized a length of fabric and attempted to stop the bleeding. “Ya thid.” His tone was blunter than the fracture itself. The scarlet color of the fabric and the color of his blood was indistinguishable, and Kristoff honestly thought his fiance looked even worse with it.

 

“Come on,” Kristoff sighed as he got up and wrapped a bicep around his fiance’s shoulder. “Let’s get you to the doctor.” Hans only nodded. “Pinch the bridge, and tilt your head back. It’ll help with the bleeding.”

 

“Thanks for yor concern, but since when’re you a doctor?” He glared as Kristoff held his head back for him.

 

“I’m not. But unlike you I’ve had nosebleeds. Just follow my lead.” Kristoff pulled him along. “I’m so sorry, Hans. It’s just that you never said how to get out of the dip-”

 

“Jus get meh to the fleakin’ doctor alredy!” Hans snapped as he clapped another hand over his nose to try and stop the trails of blood from doing anymore damage to the light wood floor.

 

Ten minutes later, they were sitting on a small bed in the little infirmary, the soft blue paint worn with age as the fire prince held a handkerchief provided by a passing servant to clean up the blood. It was pressed against his now throbbing nose, and both men sat there in complete awkward silence, Kristoff refusing to look at the injured prince. Hans’ eyes were glued to the ceiling a crick forming in his neck from holding his head at a bent back position. The king opened the door and looked at the pair before biting the inside of his cheek. The discomfort in the room easily multiplied. “Dare I ask what happened?”

 

“Da tango!” The prince replied with annoyance. “Dat’s whud happund.”

 

Thomas’s mouth curved into a smile. “I’m surprised, brother. You’ve never been one to get injured unless Alexander was involved.”

 

“That was actually my fault.” Kristoff sighed. “I wanted him to teach me how to dance.”

 

The king laughed a bit, picturing the scene in his head of the two of them performing a tango dip in their customary clothes. “That must’ve been quite a sight.”

 

“Id was.” Hans nodded a bit as his neck cringed slightly from movement. “We were nadurals.”

 

“Were you, now?” Thomas grinned and leaned against the wall. “I certainly can’t recall Kristoff becoming adept at dancing. If you weren’t so cute together right now, I’d ask for a demonstration.”

 

Kristoff shrugged a bit. “I wasn’t breaking his toes, at least.”

 

“Preddy sure ya did,” Hans wiggled his boots a bit. “and you did break meh nod.”

 

“I said I was sorry. Geez, can’t you just forgive me already?”

 

“Waid until I have my hands, again ice cudder. We’ll see who’s sorry afder I-”

 

“That’s quite enough from you.” Dr. Kron appeared from the archway that connected a small sitting room to the bed area. “If you want the blood to stop then you have to stop using your mouth. It might damage the vessels even further.” He then handed a bag of ice to Kristoff. “Keep that on his nose and it should be fine within a few weeks. Until then, refrain from dancing, Mr. Bjorgman. If his nose gets pushed out of place Hans here will need a cast, and I doubt you two will want that.” The ice cutter held the cold bag in his large hand and gently eased Hans’ hand from his nose and setting the bag on the red and swollen nose that gave the prince the appearance of a seal balancing a ball on it’s nose. It was hardly comical to Hans himself, but at the moment everyone needed a good laugh.

 

“So I take it the ball is still on, then?” The king said after a moment.

 

“I don’d see why nod.” Hans replied as the physician cast him a warning look.

 

“So you’re not mad?” Kristoff pressed.

 

“Don’d push your luck Bjorgman.” The prince had a smile on as he held the bag of quickly melting ice to his nose. “On the bright side, at least we know we’re nod doing the tango at the ball.”

 

Kristoff shrugged again. “You might not have a nose right now, but you still look great.” He brushed a kiss on the auburns freckled cheek. “Besides, next time we both know I’ll lead do you can get your revenge.”

  
“I will,” Hans grinned at him. “But hopefully it won’t result in a trip to the infirmary.” He already had his plan in mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know the Tango wasn't really mainstream until the early 1900's and is an Argentinian dance. It's just the only dance I could think of that has a dip like in the post.  
> Link to the Post: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/380202393517154169/


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